Return to Serenity
by MikeThatWas
Summary: Mal has some unfinished business with a past he can't escape.


**Return to Serenity**

By Mike Smithwick

_One wiser then I once wrote: "There is a fine line between dedication and obsession. How one is pushed over that line may happen in the most subtle of ways. From what a person is served at dinner, to the gift of a child."- Darrial Book, Shepherd, private correspondence._

In "The Black," space and solitude conspire together so as to affect people in ways unlike anything else. And that emptiness can carve up a hole in a man bigger than any valley, or haunt him as a thousand ghosts.

The little transport ship wheeled its way through that solitude leaving the "dust of a thousand worlds far behind." Enveloped by the night, she slumbered. Were one to navigate her corridors, he might catch sight of an empty bridge and wonder at the scattered childrens' toys making their grand procession across the panels glowing their warm glow in an otherwise darkened room. Finding his way to the untidy dining area, where just hours before the walls witnessed good-natured verbal jousts being fired back and forth followed by an easy laughter, quietude now resides. In the distance however he might hear a low lumbering growl.

Coming into the cargo hold, he would spy a weight-set in one corner, and an unsettling amount of open space normally occupied by cargo in better times. The growl grows perceptively louder. It comes from the engine room. It was generally a utilitarian space, now lovingly adorned by her master in stickers, drawings and other odd decorations. The humming, a barely perceptible presence, suggests that the ship is sleeping. As is her master.

One would notice that Kaylee's perpetual smile rarely vanished as she slept. Her left arm was outstretched, loosely wrapped around a bright peach gown decorating the wall amid scattered engine schematics mixed with the occasional pictures of kittens. It was a rough day, but she nursed her babies through it. Some new parts should bring them back to full health, of course, depending on whether her captain can afford them.

Unlike Kaylee, Jayne's expression was well, could best be described as very "Jayne-like." A confused swagger perhaps. No dress for him to grasp, instead a person would see his arms wrapped around one of his favorite weapons as a child might clutch a cherished teddy-bear.

In Simon and River's room. One bed is occupied. The other…empty.

_In The Black, space and solitude conspire…_

Mal's presence could barely be seen in his cabin. If you were there it might take a good five minutes for your eyes to adjust, at which time you would almost be able discern a dim shaft of light coming from nowhere in particular whispering to the figure on the bed. One eye is open, staring. With the thoughts of recent months amplified in the darkness, a dozen voices call to be heard. Replaying over and over like a broken vid, Mal would hear his own, and those of others echoing in response….

"Here she is, nice isn't she."

The graceful stranger rubbed a finger across one of the control panels looking at the dust it revealed. "Smallish."

"Not overly. How much room do you really need for what you do anyway?" he said, wondering why a companion, (a registered one, even!) would want to be seen with the likes of him.

Inara ignored the last comment and stated in a matter-of-fact manner "You're going to rent this shuttle to me and for one quarter less than the asking price."

"Am I?" Mal's voice trailed off….

Back in the present darkness he could see little tricks of light and imagination forming complex patterns, drifting just in front of him barely out of his reach.

Inara's voice spoke up again, a collage stitched together from other points in the past. "That's the last time you call me 'whore'…Some brave captain who doesn't even know how to use a sword…I see Kaylee's here…"

Mal took a slow breath. In the distance the engines hummed and growled.

"You should have seen her cry when I told her she could have that layer cake she's wear'n."

"She looks adorable."

"Inara's mine."

"She don't belong to nobody…don't take his offer."

"What?"

"Don't do it."

"I'm not leaving Serenity."

"Mal, you don't have to die alone."

Mal blinked. The patterns spun around, some black, others deep blue, they swirled and danced.

A voice from years before invaded his thoughts, "Sir, we got some survivors!"

"I ain't hurt," Zoe replied.

"You let me decide that…."

Mal closed his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts which came faster then before.

"She will live," Niska remarked icily. "She will appear undamaged…she will feel no pain, but of course, she will feel no pleasure as well. Unfortunate in her line of work."

Mal's silent rage started to grow.

"She'll feel nothing when I let my troopers have her…which should be a comfort to you."

Mal's left eye twitched.

He wasn't the only one hearing his thoughts.

River leaned against his door, expressionless, taking it all in. Silent. Still. Knowing.

**Chapter 1**

The streets of Gillis Camp looked no different than any other dusty edgeworld. The trio of Simon, Inara and Kaylee took advantage of their brief shore leave to stretch their legs, eat some "real" food, if of course what they ate could be called food, and do what all good space-faring crews loved to do on a day off: get some shopping done.

Inara tightly clutched her small bag of purchases while Kaylee navigated her way along the rough sidewalks with an armload of fresh flowers. It was a small gift to herself out of her own meager savings. A simple way to make the raggedy edge of life a little less so. Or to at least smell better.

"It was sure nice of the captain to take care of River for the day" Kaylee chirped. "And lett'n her off the ship like that was real sweet, now since she seems to be feel'n a lot better. Plus they'll get to know each other." She paused to breathe in the warm scent of the flowers.

Tagging after the girls, Simon looked back and forth scanning for the trouble he knew must be waiting just around the next hitching post. These grim little moons always were full up of their share of problems, or "adventures" as Kaylee would say. "He's up to something, I just know it."

"So what makes ya think that you can't trust Mr. Grumpy? Oh! Chenille!"

The two girls were rapidly abducted by a resident clothing shop. Taking a deep breath Simon chased them in, and found himself swallowed up by a literal jungle of frilly odds and ends. More odd than usual as far as he was concerned. But he noticed Kaylee's perpetual smile was broader than normal, and for that he could do nothing but be pleased, yet he couldn't help but wonder if she ever got tired of being so darned winsome.

"Here Simon!" she effervesced, shoving her flowers into his arms. "It'll be just a minute…"

The doctor tried to navigate around through the cluttered aisles not really sure what some of the items were called. A kameez stood guard in one corner, an army of saris in another, a cotton ao-dai fluttered in his face.

Inara grabbed a delicate blue silk scarf and held out to her friend. "How about this?" In awe, Kaylee quickly took it for a closer look. Spotting a red qipao she tossed the scarf to Simon who barely snared it on one of his arms. Simultaneously amused and mildly embarrassed, he wondered what Jayne would think. Constantly being known as the "pretty boy," he no doubt looked even "pretty'r." It would make for a good story to tell River when she returned.

"Captain's always been straight with us…I mean, most of the time." Kaylee shouted over her shoulder picking up their conversation from where it left off.

A middle-aged woman entered the shop shadowed by her stooped husband who fit his suit as 10 pounds of flour fit a 5 pound bag. Quickly removing a topper from his rounded head he glanced towards Simon, himself with flowers and draped by the scarf. Their quick glances immediately signaled sympathy with the other.

Simon rushed off and quickly caught up with the girls. "Have you ever known him not to be up to something? Uh, whenever I see Mal being nice, I start to worry."

Inara handed Kaylee a sheer morning robe. "Something like this will make your MAN go as Mal might say 'Every kind of wild'."

"Simon? He's too proper for 'Wild'."

Inara looked back to Simon to comfort him.

"Simon, you worry too much. For all of his MANY faults. Oh, did I say Mal had many faults? Why, I believe I did! Well, he'll take care of your sister. That's one thing we can trust him about. He does keep his word to us. He said no business today, so I am sure she's safe wherever they are."

----------------

The Blue Moon Bar was no different then a hundred other bars on a hundred other worlds. Sagging by the weight of the misdirected morals of its typical clientele, Malcolm Reynolds felt right at home.

The usual hub and in fact some bub as well filled the 'Moon with the daily grind of the edgeworld life.

"I'll take two" Nickels barked. Nothing like a game of Tall Card to get his mind off his wife, and his sisters and his 3 daughters for that matter. Looking at his cards caused a patina of disgust to traverse his stubbly face.

"Peach is tall, I'll take tall." Rimm slipped a card off the stack, took one look, "Oh, you're killn' me!" he groaned.

Peg leaned back and scratched the back of his head, a thing he always did when someone else had the best of him. "I'll flank." He grumbled. Then whispering in Chinese, "lucky child of a whore."

River giggled. "Ante up gent'l'men."

The three men tossed in their remaining bids. "Straight basket!" River exclaimed, placing down her cards. Nickels threw down his own hand, kicked his chair away from the table, and stormed away, "Damned kid!"

Rimm, lips pursed, looking as if he'd been weaned on a lemon, was not above mocking his friends. "Sure Rimm," he said, doing a passable imitation of Nickels' slight lisp, "she'll be an eathy mark. Nothin' wrong with beating a girl."

"It's been nice playing with you gent'l'men," commented River. Her tone was far too cheery for that part of town. "Come on back real soon, hear?"

Hunched over his drink at the bar, Mal giggled lightly to himself as he eavesdropped on the action. "What are you laughing at?" the bartender asked, cleaning a glass that could clearly use a stronger grade of disinfectant.

"Ain't never seen how eunuchs were created before."

The front door opened and in swooped a young man who was much too well dressed for the likes of the Blue Moon. Several patrons made note that the scarf he clutched was definitely out of place. At least for this kind of bar.

"Look Simon!" River shouted as she jumped up with a broad grin. She proudly held out some of her winnings towards him. "Betch'a didn't think I could play didja big brother?"

Brushing his sister aside the doctor aimed straight for Malcolm Reynolds. "MAL!" he shouted.

Reynolds met him halfway and taking his arm, quickly ushered him out onto the sidewalk. He said I a low voice "When it comes to making scenes, this is one place where scenes ought not to be made young man, unless'n of course you don't mind a little poisoning of the lead variety." River trotted out after them out with her winnings.

It was a rare show of emotion that found Simon so livid. "You promised you would protect my sister. Instead you take her to a common saloon?"

Mal tried to calm his excitable passenger. "Seems to me you were the one want'n to give sis here a little R&R seeing she ain't threatened my crew with so much as the dull end of a used cotton ball in the past three days. So I did."

Mal paused to admire Simon's new silk scarf, and continued with a cocky grin, "And you might just be proud of her. Damned fine gambler I'd say, what with her mindreadn' and all."

"How dare you use my sister for one of your money-making stunts!"

Keeping his voice down, Mal didn't want to be overheard back in the bar. In a still, yet stern tone he informed Simon that his little stunt "just earned you and this charming and talented yearling your keep for the next three months."

The doctor stood there, fuming. River stood smiling, while Mal continued, "and how can you deny the smiling face of a young child...of a young, occasionally psychotic but nonetheless very intelligent child." He took River's money pouch and glanced into it. "Try four months doc. All manner of sparkle in this here bag," and made the point by firmly shoving it into Simon's hands.

He then directed them further down the street away from the bar.

River laughed. "…and you should have seen the big guy's expression Simon, it was so…"

Simon took his sister by the hand and looked into her eyes. "This isn't funny River. What would have happened if they suspected anything?"

"Relax doc, ain't noth'ns going to happen. And if it does, well, I always come prepared."

"Excuse me for not being assured."

Nickels burst out the door, stumbling with his gun drawn, Rimm closely followed doing his best to hold him back.

"…but that girl took all my whore'n money!"

Simon yanked his sister behind some nearby crates, River still laughing as if this was part of some larger game, while Mal endeavored to fade into the crowd, pretending that nothing was happening. And frankly in the daily life of Gillis Camp, nothing was happening.

Grabbing his friend's arm, Rimm reminded him "You ain't gonna shoot that kid are you? We don't do that no more!"

"Gorram it no! But I thure am gonna thoot her pappy!"

Mal froze in his tracks. "Pappy??" he mouthed to himself? He didn't look THAT old? Did he? Turning around, he repeated, "Pappy?"

Nickels fired off a couple of shots, rearranging the dust around Mal's boots. A steady diet of drinking and one lacking in zinc no doubt made his aim a little degraded from what it once was. Mal ducked and ran for cover pulling his gun out of its holster, an action that was more familiar to him then most men. Ducking that is. Simon was fearful while River smiled and giggled. Her brother normally enjoyed seeing her happy, but only under more appropriate circumstances. Another bullet slammed into the corner of one of their protective crates, and another, while Mal fired a few rounds towards the gunman.

River stopped laughing.

She slid towards the ground, her eyes dilated with fear.

----------------

"You ready Jayne?" Zoe's voice crackled from the small black twoway resting next to Jayne on the roof. "Looks like we need to go to Plan B!"

Jayne raised himself up a little from his sniper position overlooking the dusty thoroughfare to get a better view. "Plan-B. Plan-B!" he muttered to himself. "Seems like we always go to a gorram Plan-B." He readied several of his favorite weapons and placed a shell in his mouth. "Tell ya what Mal…", he said, while cocking one of the guns, "why don't we just do Plan-B first and save ourselves a constipated panda's worth of trouble." Grabbing the twoway, he replied to Zoe, "yup, Plan-B it is. So, can I start kill'n somthin' now?"

Perched in her own position on the other side of the street down from Jayne, Zoe looked through her own scope and took in the situation. "Captain says no killing, not today…"

A gunshot seized her attention.

She froze upon seeing River slumping down from her hideout.

"Can I start wounding something?" Jayne begged.

She hesitated a few moments, staring, something her battle-hardened reflexes should not have let her do. She gulped mightily for breath, relieved to notice that River was able to move herself back to cover.

"Zoe?" Jayne shouted again, his crackling voice breaking her silence.

"Just scaren' today. Captain wants to make sure we're not banned from this moon either. Kinda hard to keep track these days. Maybe next time though."

Jayne rolled slightly to the right and focused his scope at the feet of Mal's attacker. "Let some chaos ensue, sunshine" he whispered.

The explosions around Nickels' feet did wonders to focus his attention on other more pressing matters, such as survival for instance. He looked up and noticed not one, but two weapons bearing down on him. Making one of the wiser decisions of his life he darted back into the safety of the 'Moon.

It was just another day in Gillis Camp.

**Chapter 2**

Exhausted, Zoe and Jayne slowly made their way up the ramp of Serenity followed closely by Mal. Carrying her packages, Inara coolly glided by in stern silence. River came up last, limping, flanked by Simon and Kaylee to steady her.

Wash bounded down to greet the party like a happy beagle puppy, wiping some oil off of his hand with an old rag. Book followed pensively sensing that all did not go well.

"So dad, did you get anything for me?" Wash panted to Mal, as he reached out to give his warrior woman a hug. "Huh? Didja?? Did'ja get me a lemur? I always wanted a lemur!"

Book noticed the downcast faces of the others and wryly asked, "Don't tell me. We shouldn't be expecting a Christmas fruit basket from this town either?" Spying River's limp he rushed down to her. "Child, what happened?"

"Just a flesh wound Mr. Book." The young woman replied, all too cheerily for someone who just survived another one of Mal's less decisive deals.

"Captain got us shot at, and River got hit by a piece of a bullet," Kaylee added. Noticing that both she and Simon looked drained, the preacher put his arm around River, offering to take her the rest of the way.

Simon accepted his new found liberty and rushed straight up to Mal who was chatting with Jayne. "BASTARD!" he shouted, as he whipped Mal around, and with all of the strength he could muster, showed he was much more than a nice satiny waistcoat and fancy pair of glass frames by punching Mal a good one.

Unfortunately for Simon, the captain was suspiciously used to such encounters and withstood the doctor's mighty onslaught quite well, thank you.

"Son, you are lucky I am in one whimsical of a mood today…"

Simon rubbed his hand, still shaking from his anger. "Nobody uses my sister like that. Nobody! So much all of this elevated talk of how 'we're just family'" he sneered."Well, River is MY family, something you will never understand. And I protect her."

Mal's jaw tightened just a bit.

"Ouch, that's gotta hurt," Jayne whispered to Wash as the two watched the little drama unfold from the shadows.

Simon followed Book and his sister to the infirmary. Mal turned after them, only to be held back by Zoe with her "Let it be" look.

----------------

River was lying down on the infirmary's little bed, excitedly chatting away as her brother tenderly washed her wound. He prepared to extract a sliver of metal wedged in her skin right below her left knee. "But Simon, I made four months of passage for the both of us!"

He dabbed off the dried blood from her leg, "I don't think we'll be needing it….Hold on, this might hurt…"

"We're going to stop running?"

Simon paused. "I just want to take you to someplace safe."

"Where's that?"

He gazed out of the window into the hallway and breathed, "I don't know."

----------------

Like a proud papa, Jayne looked down upon his beauties stretched out before him on the dinner table. He then carefully laid an assortment of ointments, oils, cloths and small tools to the side. In a surprisingly delicate fashion he picked up one small pistol as if it was a precious diamond and began the exacting process of cleaning it. The rear door opened up, and Simon stepped in, having left River to rest up. Seeing the arsenal, a mixture of curiosity and revulsion crossed his face.

"How's your wingnut sister do'n?" the mercenary asked, looking down the barrel of his pride.

Simon took a seat, "Uh, she'll be okay. It was only a small fragm…..Is that, uh, Vera?"

"Try again scalpel boy" Jayne responded without looking.

"Marie?" the doctor guessed.

"Gorram no kid! Simon, this here's Helen…" Jayne held out the muzzle so Simon could shake it. "Helen, meet Simon."

Wash came in to grab a snack. "Hi guys, hi Helen. Ain't you the cutest little backfire revolver. Yes you are! Yes you are!!"

"So which uh, ex-girlfriend was Helen?" Simon asked, carefully directing the gun away from him.

"Hell, girlfriend, nothn'! Helen's my mah!"

"She must be so proud."

Jayne examined the gun closely and while looking down the barrel he pretended to shoot it. "Small, but deadly. Pow! Can make a killer pesto omelet too!"

Simon shook his head and couldn't help but wonder aloud "so, do you name 'everything' of yours?"

"Oh, you mean my 'man parts'? What kind of sicko do you think I am doc? Hey Wash! Yah know anyone who names their man parts?"

Wash sat up straight, a little surprised. "Uh, oh? No, uh, no I don't!"

"Yes you do dear!" Zoe entered the room, not missing a chance to embarrass her husband. Feigning a whisper to the others she added, "it helps when he does his shadow puppets."

"I'm going to my private place now" the pilot said, as he tried to slip away.

Simon wondered why he stayed with this bunch, as he did every day.

Jayne continued his ritual. "So, why you deck Mal?" He couldn't help but smirk just a little.

"He deserved it that's why."

Polishing the barrel of Helen, Jayne remembered his "classes" he gave Simon in self-defense. "Looks like my 'man' lessons have been work'n. Hope you didn't break a nail. Guess I learnt you well. Now maybe you can teach me to give breast exams, eh doc?"

With that he cast a sly gaze towards Zoe, but couldn't help notice she briefly froze. And giving him a stare that dropped the room's temperature by a good 20 degrees, she mouthed, "Don't go there Jayne."

He paused and blinked. He looked around. "What?"

Kaylee entered munching on a peach. Another little gift to herself. "Something's not right with the captain. He'd never put River into danger like that. Ever notice that he's been acting a little funny. Yah know, he has his code that he would never injure a passenger."

At that point Mal himself entered the room causing the others to go silent. Coming to a halt, he glared at Simon, nearly reading his thoughts and those all around him. "GORRAM IT! AIN'T NOTHING HAPPENED!" Anger like this leveled at his crew was unheard of. Taking a deep breath he added, "kid had some fun, we made some serious sparkle. We got out. No blood, uh, not much blood…"

This time Simon knew better then to take on Mal. At least until he knew how to deck a man without spraining his own fist. "She's my sister!"

"And an independent almost adult human-type being capable of making her own decisions."

Wash, expecting some more cheap entertainment stepped back into the room as Zoe again moved quickly to come in-between the two men. And as a mother hen, Jayne quickly swooped over his collection to protect it from hands less worthy than his should someone want to take advantage of one of his beauties.

But it was too late.

A gun shot rang out. First all eyes go to Jayne, who responded with a wide-eyed "Not me, (this time)" expression.

There in the doorway stood River, gun drawn aimed high in the air, determined to be taken seriously for once. "Why doesn't anyone ask 'the kid' what she wants? I may be crazy, but not that crazy...well sometimes."

The silence was broken by a thin hissing sound in the distance.

She paused, looked up towards the ceiling and asked herself aloud "Did I just fire a gun in a spaceship?"

"Girl knows how to get attention" Jayne mumbled. He gingerly reached out and collected the gun from River, "This'uns 'Zoe'" he grinned.

"Ewwwww?" was Zoe's only response.

Without missing a beat, Kaylee calmly climbed on top of the table and nonchalantly stuffed a small towel in the hole. "Just a little one. Tain't much worth worryn' about. No conduits of any sort there." She jumped off the table and knew she earned her pay again that day.

River slowly circled around the table looking at each member one at a time with a sudden intensity that put all on edge. She was having another one of her "moments" as Wash might say.

"We're lost, the dead are lost. And the lost need someone to find them. And those that find them, themselves get lost in the process…"

Jayne whispered to Simon, "What's with this sis of your doc? Seems like she's always com'n in on some sort of cue, says somethin' all wacky and voodoo like and leaves."

River orbited back around towards Jayne "Hoodoo like voodoo." She knelt down, and whispered right in his ear. "Wacky enough for you big boy?"

"See what I mean doc?"

"That's why we all love her. I guess" Simon replied.

----------------

Book stopped Mal in the corridor. "You want to talk about it?"

The captain was calmer, but still reluctant. "Not now."

"I know what the Black can do to a man. Get some rest before dinner."

"Good idea, Shep." Mal slipped down into his darkened, quiet quarters.

Voices started to haunt him again. "The name's Kate. It's good to see some friendly faces around here. Folks not dressed in purple. Alliance don't like us much. Say, we're having a dance tonight…"

----------------

Inara stared at her screen as she flipped through some photos. They were vids and letters from different admirers. The flickering light of several candles served to make the companion's shuttle seem all the more exotic and remote. And that was as she preferred, a way to separate her world of sensuality and elegance from Mal's world of mere survival.

Many poked fun at her profession, yet she was still a businesswoman with clients, schedules, bills and taxes. All rather unglamorous, if only they knew. But now was the time to select her next customers. She often boasted how companions chose their subjects, but that was not entirely true. Numerous companions, both the youngest and in many cases, the oldest, could not afford that luxury. It was an expensive profession and many times you had to take whatever work came your way. "Curious" she thought, realizing that Mal said the same thing about his work.

"Knock knock" came a sing-songy voice from her all too public of an entrance.

Inara replied to her would-be visitor "Go awaaaayyyy!" in a similar tone mimicking false cheer.

Mal poked his head into the lush compartment. "Just wanted to inform the queen that her dinner is…" His voice trailed off as he hesitated, glancing at the screen, always curious as to who uses companions.

The captain froze.

Staring back at him was the face of a 45 to 50 year old man. Some could call him robustly handsome as a stately yet older building. His was a face that had appeared have a long story to tell. And some just might want to know about it.

"And just who pray tell is that?"

"For me to know and you to go awaaaayyyyy!"

Mal moved up behind his friend and leaned forward to so as to read the name off the screen before Inara was able to switch it off. "Samson Manchester II?" He said. Inara by now was getting quite annoyed, even for Mal. "What do you call him when yer earning yer keep? Samson? Sam? Maybe 'S'? Or perhaps just 'two?"

She cut him off. "What do you want Mal?"

"Eye eye?"

"Mal!"

"Oh god oh god?"

Inara whipped around in her chair. "Enough!" she snapped.

Caught by surprise, Mal took a step back but continued anyway. "Know somethin' about him besides his having an overly pretentious moniker?"

She closed her eyes hoping this annoying insect of a man would just leave by the time she reopened them. Recognizing a hundred discussions from the past she gave in. But just a little.

"Businessman."

"Ain't they all. Done him before?"

She didn't know why she hadn't thrown her intruder out by now like he was a naughty puppy.

"Companions do not 'do' anybody!"

"That so? Have you then 'companionated' him before?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact I have," she smiled. And with her celestial grin she couldn't help but add "And if you MUST know, he was VERY good."

"I'll keep that in mind" Mal yawned. "So, what kind of nuggets of info do you know of Mr. 'Oh God'?"

"Mal, you know I can't tell you anything about my clients. Guild rule #1. Companions can learn the deepest secrets of anyone. Their ability to keep those secrets transcends all others. I may have two competing businessman or worse yet, politicians, who would kill to know what the other is up to. I lost a dear friend who was killed for breaking that rule."

She slumped back in her chair.

"Condolences. Shouldn't mean much though if you tell me where he lives. Or what the man does to raise funds to afford an obviously well-paid society gal such as yourself."

"Mal!"

"I'm serious Inara."

"I am too. What's your problem?"

The captain backed away another step. "Noth'n of your concern. Chow's ready."

----------------

By all accounts, dinnertime was the favorite time of the day for the entire crew, unless of course Jayne was acting primitive again. One could hear the laughter from all parts of the ship, as the crew briefly came together as a family. A family that could take the place of the one they left behind, ran away from, or never had.

"…and then Wash excuses hisself to go to his 'private place'." Jayne hooted, wiping some juice from his mouth on a well stained sleeve.

Being the peacemaker (and seeing Wash's admittedly well-deserved humiliation), Book gave Jayne a kindly look. "We all have our little quirks, don't we Mr. Must-Smell-Everything-I-Touch?"

Forcing a smile, Wash sampled a nugget of something from the serving tray in the middle of the table attempting to navigate to another subject. With his mouth full he held up a piece of the whatever-it-was, and commented with genuinely false enthusiasm "I have two words for this: yumm and mee!"

Kaylee jumped in again with one of her regular "Simon is really cute" stories, designed to make the starchy doctor turn various shades of crimson. "Oh remember last week after we delivered that shipment of paper umbrellas to Sequoia?..."

"Kaylee!" Simon stuttered on cue as if it was a well rehearsed scene from a popular vid.

"Yummy is two words?" Jayne asked.

Enjoying the moment, not to mention ignoring Jayne, Kaylee continued, "He said he always wanted to kiss a girl under an umbrella. So I got the lift….". Now she turned to her right, giving the good doctor a bright grin. "So I got the lift and hoisted an entire crate of 'em up in the air and we slid under 'em…"

Simon tried again to cut her off. "Kaylee! Please!"

A distracted Inara broke in silencing the others. "Where's Mal?"

She looked around. The one who usually laughed the loudest and longest was missing, having slipped out unnoticed in the past few minutes.

"What's wrong Simon? People…."

"WHERE'S MAL?" Inara nearly shouted. "Oh, ghose!" She exclaimed, surprising the others by her language as she rushed out.

Jayne, always the master of inappropriate comments broke the uneasy silence, "I think she's hot for me."

----------------

Malcolm Reynolds tried one combination after another on Inara's keyboard. The obvious passwords didn't work, "whore," "hotcakes," "ohhhhhh." "How about friends?" he thought. "Kaylee" failed as did "Mandy." Thank goodness "Atherton" failed. But curiously "Serenity" did too. (He should have tried "Malcolm.")

He heard an all too familiar sound behind him: The cocking of a small concealable weapon. "Whoa! Whoa! You wouldn't shoot an unarmed man would you?"

"I have before" Inara said in a tone so cold it could splinter the air.

Mal quickly kicked his way back from the computer, raising his hands. Another action he was rather familiar with.

The icy and determined woman could be heard almost in tears. "What's gotten into you Mal. I know you are capable of some questionable activity, but not this. You've always been, well most of the time, respectful of my ship." She moved in from the entrance, gun still extended, but sagging towards the floor as her grip lessened. "I could be killed! You know that! You've been slipping. Little things first. Then risking River earlier today. And now you're trying to use me for…for what? Some private little vendetta or petty jealously?"

The captain broke in. "Ever here of Solomon Grant?"

Confused, Inara responded. "No, should I?"

Mal began to spin yet another one of his war stories, tales that always gripped Inara. For all of her love of elegance and grace, Mal's world fascinated her.

"The Independents were financed mainly by small donations. A few credits here and there, a beat up old ship. Lots of folks helped out."

Inara lowered her gun and listened.

"We had several money-men. The guys who would manage the accounts and write the checks. Damned glorified bookkeepers. One, Grant, as it would seem was playing both sides. He was in charge of accounts for weaponry in the final days of the war. One day the man just upped and vanished along with millions of credits of our money meant for spare parts for our fighters. Fighters didn't get fixed. When fighters don't get fixed, they don't fight. They don't fight we die."

Inara couldn't help but notice Mal staring off into nothing. He was no longer seated comfortably in her shuttle, but somewhere back in an unknown battlefield. Lots of folks joke about men and their war stories. The joking stops when you have been with a real soldier who saw real battle and saw his best buddy reading a letter from Mom one moment, turned into human jelly in the next. They had no time to mourn.

Mal had that look. "And when the battle got a little hot…" she heard him say.

"Your angels never showed and you lost…..you lost Serenity." She added quietly.

Inara paused to breathe, not knowing if she should still be mad at him, or should hug him. Being quiet was the best.

In the distance she could hear the laughter from the mess and the low comforting growl of Kaylee's engines. Who knows what he was 'hearing' at this time.

Knowing what he was implying, she softly cleared her throat and stated "Trust me Mal, this guy isn't him. He's a decent man…"

"Who whores around?"

"Who 'whores' around."

**Chapter 2**

Hera, Six Years Earlier.

The detachment of soldiers trickled into town hour after hour. For being on the "losing side" they seemed in remarkably good spirits. Some were crude country boys fighting for no reason except there was nothing else to do, what with the economy the way it was. Others were the true believers in their cause. Most were remarkably brave, some were not. But they all found something few could find elsewhere. A simple clear cut purpose for their lives. For the less philosophical young men without families in particular, it was hard to find great meaning in plowing a field or making a leather purse. Picking up a gun and going after guys in purple declared as "evil"….now, that was a purpose. And a grand one indeed.

The town's inhabitants came out to greet each and every one. The little village of Heather Glen had seen its share of its young men leaving for battle, and the townsfolk hoped that wherever they were they'd find a friendly place to greet them just the same.

"No men here" Zoe remarked all too casually, taking a quick glance around.

"Indie town. A lot got one-way tickets to eternity. Thems got themselves killed off most likely then not. Some menfolk likely here, too young or old to fight, but able to farm at least."

A young Asian woman trotted up to the two. Pleased to see some new faces, she rushed to introduce herself. "Excuse me, hello. I'm Kate. Welcome to Heather Glen. Can I get anything for you two?"

"Heather Glen?" Zoe asked.

"Well, not much heather here, and the 'glen' part is just this side of ugly. But the name's pretty and the folks'r good."

"Can't argue with that" Mal replied. "I'm Malcolm Reynolds, this here's Corporal Alleyne."

Zoe held out her hand. "Hi, you can call me Zoe. He? He can call me Corporal Alleyne."

Kate smiled, directing them to the center part of town. Some soldiers piled their packs in front of the saloon. Others looked around for places to pitch their tents.

"It's good to see some friendly faces round. Folks not dressed in purple. Alliance don't like us much." 

"Can't imagine why" Mal said, eyeing the bar as did Zoe.

"Say, we're having a dance tonight! Y'all be welcome. Something to take us and you away from the war for a while."

----------------

In one hand Wash held up a dinosaur facing a hula doll in the other, playing out one of his many little personal spasms of whimsy. In the Black, one had to entertain themselves however they could. He shook the dinosaur and growled "So, we got some chains for some stupid mine to pick up….." Looking at the hula dancer, his voice took on a high pitched tone "That ougghta turn a little bit of coin. Then you and me can take that dream vacation we've allll-waayyys wanted!"

Zoe interrupted his desktop drama. "Captain's not right" she said.

Her husband, like the legend of the shy ventriloquist who could only speak through his dummies, held the dinosaur up to her face. "Oh go ahead and destroy the mood, you, you 'mood destroyer you!'"

"If I had only known about this before we got married" she thought, grabbing his toy and hurling it across the bridge. "I mean it Wash. Captain's not acting right. Been either too quiet to too careless. Something's eat'n away at him."

"I'm sure it will be okay, you know those little quirky moods of his…"

"Known him for years. Ain't never seen him like this before."

----------------

When there was free time, the cargo bay served as the rec room of sorts. Particularly when there was well, not much cargo. As has been the case recently.

Kaylee and River, behaving much like the sisters neither of them ever had were creating their own little party.

Facing Kaylee, River held her friend's hand right hand up, and positioned Kaylee's left hand on her back. "Now waltz is easy. If you can count to three you can waltz." River said. "Move your right foot back…"

Looking down, the young mechanic first stepped forward then back.

"No, your other right" River said. Lifting her left hand, she turned the farm girl under and almost into Simon who stepped out of the shadows. Losing her balance she tumbled to the floor.

"May I have this dance?" Simon asked. Bowing, taking her hand as a gentleman would, he lifted her up.

River shot Kaylee a little wink, and silently slipped away knowing when to leave.

"Are you asking me to dance?"

"This time, yes, and look! No gunshot wounds are involved," Simon answered, referencing one of the first times they met.

"Now waltz is easy. If you can count to three, you can waltz." The young woman stumbled around again, stepping on his foot. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Simon made a slightly exaggerated grimace. "That's okay, I know a good doctor. Let's try again. 1-2 and 3. Like this….1 and 2 and 3." He began to hum a sweet folk tune Kaylee remembered from her childhood. "The Cedarwood" it was called.

Her stumbles became less as he hummed and counted and hummed some more.

"Don't look at your feet, it'll just confuse you."

Some more slow spins and she was staying on her feet more.

Risking it all, Simon's humming reached a stirring finale; he spun her across into his left arm leading her into a dip. Distracted and dizzy she lost her balance and collapsed to the floor laughing and taking the oh-so-brave doctor down with her.

"More stories for the dinner table?" he asked.

Kaylee nodded. "I thought River was the only dancer here."

"She's the only _good_ dancer here. Plus I can do other things than kiss a child's bruise."

"Oh Simon, I didn't mean…"

"Well, River…she's a natural. A natural at most anything actually, but when it comes to dancing she rises well above that."

"And you."

Simon smiled shyly, as he only did when he was really relaxed. And relaxed usually meant slightly drunk, or at the very least, exhausted. Neither seemed to match the moment. "I learned a few things along the way. I mean, it was expected of us."

"You 'high society' folks?"

"All of us 'high-society' folk." He paused, looked away and continued. "What's funny is that I was so shy at first when growing up that it took ages to get me out on the floor." His voice abruptly leapt higher mimicking one of thousands of mothers. "'Simon! How are you ever going to meet a girl if you can't dance?'"

"You? Shy?" Kaylee was surprised.

The two sat up, still on the floor, both thinking what a silly sight they must be. She relished the moment. He felt vaguely undignified. (Come to think of it, just being on this rust-bucket made him feel undignified.) "Believe it or not I wasn't the charming, urbane snob that you see before you today. I would go to a lot of dances because it was expected, and well, there were cute girls there. But I didn't know how to dance, so would feign a sore knee or ankle, and then spend most of my time trying to fake a smile while drinking watery punch."

"So what happened?"

Simon reached back into his memory. Leaning up against a small crate he began to relate a reoccurring dream he once had. "I would be hiking up a high mountain trail, one that would go nearly straight up…"

Kaylee rolled over and gazed at the ceiling. "And?"

"…and it would get steeper and steeper. I couldn't turn around for fear of falling, I didn't want to back down, but it looked like I was almost at the top and I wanted to see what was up there anyway so I kept on going…"

"And?" Kaylee asked with simulated impatience.

"And I would always wake up just before I reached the top. So one day we had this big dance coming up. A 'big society thing'…" he boomed. "I knew I needed to finally learn so I asked a friend to teach me. We practiced and practiced for days. I felt like such an idiot." Simon paused again, and pulled his knees up under his chin. "Finally the evening of the ball arrived. The floor was awash with these beautiful girls in their special gowns. I held my breath went up to the cutest one and asked her to for my first ever dance."

Enraptured, Kaylee ended it "And you fell in love and had lots and lots of babies?"

Simon laughed and sweetly stroked Kaylee's hair. "She was actually the daughter of my physics teacher and he would have had my hide if we did. But that one night I danced with the most beautiful girl on the floor….just like tonight."

He went on to add, "and later that night I had my dream again. This time instead of waking up, I made it all of the way to the top. And after that I ain't never….damn! Now you have me talking that way."

He corrected himself back to the proper gent he always was. "And after that, I NEVER had it again."

"Kaylee! Gorram it!" The captain came storming down the steps, shattering the moment. "I'm not paying you to roll on the floor with your boyfriend!"

"But captain?" she responded weakly.

Sounding more a furious parent he barked "I distinctly heard you promise you'd get the secondary power conditioners back on line. Now git to work girl!"

The young engineer was nearly in tears and tried to protest, knowing it would be futile. "But they're just gorram backups sir, there ain't no…"

Mal gave her a steely eyed stare. "Don't try me girl."

"Yes sir." She said meekly, pulling herself off the deck.

Simon found himself wanting to strike Mal again, but his sense of self-preservation suggested that would not be the wisest course of action at this moment.

Mal turned and headed back up the stairway.

"What was that all about?" Simon whispered.

"Don't know. Seems like someone stole his favorite kitty or somethin'"

From above they heard his voice thunder down upon them. "Kaylee! NOW!!"

Sarcastically, Kaylee silently mouthed the captain's orders.

"And don't mimic me!" Mal hollered from the corridor.

----------------

Next to Zoe, Book felt like he was the only one who could approach Mal at most any time. He gingerly knocked on the captain's door, having heard of his latest outburst.

"Mal?" he asked in his moderated voice. "You in?"

Book opened the door before any response.

From within the darkened cabin came the expected, "Don't need no preachin' Rev."

"What's wrong?" Book asked, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light as he climbed down the ladder. He couldn't help but notice that Mal's quarters were always simple, clean and practical as befitting its caretaker. Not much room for frills out in the Black, unless you're a companion.

"You haven't been joining in any of our reindeer games as of late."

"None of your business." Mal responded in brusque manner, not even bothering to turn around and look at his questioner.

"Seems to me that if it affects how you run this boat of yours, might it not be our business?" The preacher paused and took in the sight of the captain's sparse decorations. Mal sat at his desk, mindlessly flipping through some papers. A few trinkets of past adventures lay scattered in front of him.

"T'aint runn'n from nothing."

The shepherd suddenly noticed Mal's odd speech pattern. At times he was as articulate as a man could be, a natural poet. Other times he'd speak in short clipped words, dropping "g"s, using crude slang, sounding as if he came from the furthest mountains on the furthest rocks in the 'Verse. It would take time to figure out who the real man was: poet or country boy. Savior or cynic. A mystery or an answer. Or perhaps the most simple explanation. He was all.

"We're always looking for or running from something. I know a little about that myself. Trust me. What is that 'something' that you're looking for son?"

"Dismissed."

----------------

Mal and Zoe came up to the town's little dance hall, perched up on the top of a small rise for all to see, with a simple set of five steps leading up to a terrace. A few others from his brigade mingled out in front. It was a moment that swept them away from the trials of the past, and something they knew they would cherish considering what they expected in the all-to-near future. A small band inside was playing waltzes, jigs and polkas. Some lyrical and haunting tunes, that drifted out in the breeze like a fine mist from a waterfall. Many of the soldiers were dancing, others milling around trying to absorb the pure normalcy of the moment.

As they entered the two stopped and looked around. "Promise me one thing sir" Zoe said in her typically detached fashion.

"And that might'n be?"

"No fist fights this time."

"Oh please?"

"I just can't take you anywhere dear."

They quietly chuckled at the image they both brought with them. It was the unlikely burden of their deep friendship.

From across the hall, Kate spied them and quickly weaved her way among the varied dancers.

"Hello!" she said nervously. "Uh, I mean 'howdy strangers!' So tell me, do soldiers dance?"

Mal responded "with enough alcohol, we can pret'neer do anything!"

Kate glanced towards Zoe, asking "May I borrow your husband?"

"Sure, but please bring ma' li'l darln' back in one piece." Zoe responding, feigning great worry. "Otherwise some great unpleasantness will be inflicted on ma' poor li'l ol' heart!"

With a dopey grin, stretching from ear to ear, Mal countered, "She ain't my wife."

Kate grabbed him by the arm and swept him into the whirl of other dancers. "You sure? Beautiful girl like that, handsome devil like you?"

"I'll prove it." He glanced back at his friend and snapped "Woman! Get me a beer!"

"Go to hell."

"What?"

"I mean, 'go to hell' SIR!"

Satisfied, Kate said "I guess you're right."

"Zoe don't date us starchy mean-spirited humorless military types. Can't stand the competition."

"Good" Kate sighed.

"Or pilots! I hate pilots! They're so cocky!" Zoe shouted from the corner of the room.

Mal and Kate were in their own world now as the band faded into the background, playing a lovely lyrical folk tune called the "Cedarwood Waltz."

"Don't get mixed up with a soldier" Kate was thinking to herself. She smiled and closed her eyes. The moment was all that mattered.

The evening hastened on by. The two eventually went outside to get some air in the crisp clear dark. From the shadows Mal heard a cute little voice shout out "Mommy!" The voice was followed by an equally cute and energetic six-year old girl, grabbing Kate around the leg as only a child can.

"Who's this little one?" Mal asked.

A slender young woman, couldn't be more than 19 or 20, dragged up breathlessly behind the little girl. "I need to head home a little early Kate, hope'n you don't mind?"

Kate quickly remembered her manners. "Sergeant Reynolds, meet my daughter Amelia and my good friend Absynthe. And Amelia I would like you to meet Mal."

The soldier stood up as straight as he could and taking the little hand he bowed low to the ground and gently kissed it.

In the quiet of the night, Kate was charmed by the entire scene.

"So soldier. You have a place to stay tonight?"

"Can't say I rightly do. You hear of something?"

"Heard tell of one. Great inn-keeper named Kate. Cute figure too. I think you'll 'shine' on her."

"That so. Cute figure you say?"

"The cutest."

Mal picked Amelia up in his arms, the first time in years he held a little one so. "Care to show this world-weary warrior the way?"

Kate beamed.

----------------

"Where? We're going where?"

Wash was taken aback. He quickly tossed aside his favorite gardening magazine and pulled his feet off from the main console.

"HERA?" He shouted. "I understand they grow fantastic zinnias there, but we have a schedule. Wait. HERA??? Is there someone just a little crazy around here not named River?"

His captain responded "Schedules can be broken. Besides, child's gambl'n skills bought us some breath'n room." He turned and left Zoe on the bridge to calm down her excitable man.

Knowing Mal better then anybody, Zoe now took over. "Do it my man. Don't ask questions." Although she had many of her own, she thought better not to ask herself.

"Yes my little long-legged zinnia."

**Chapter 3**

Kate relaxed in the soldier's arms on her front porch. It was an idyllic scene, as crickets serenaded them in the distance.

Mal broke the silence. "At the risk of sound'n like a tired old cliché, it's all manner of good to have had a home cooked meal."

"And it is 'all manner of good' to have someone to serve it to."

First the first time in years, Mal was satisfied and content. Rare for a soldier. Even rarer for Malcolm Reynolds.

He knew it wouldn't last.

"So…" He paused, wondering if he should really ask this. "So, what happened to the mister?"

Kate was surprisingly prepared as she slipped a little further into his arms. "Ah yes, the 'why is this poor girl and her quantifiably adorable daughter all alone? Poor li'l thangs! Common story, Nathan goes off to war, doesn't come back."

She paused and took a breath.

"He was a good man Mal, and I'll always miss him. The end. Cue tragic music."

They listened to the crickets.

"We've all lost a lot of loves. And we'll lose others. No doubt about that. If you ain't lost a love you ain't lived."

"And I've lived more than I care to sometimes. So, what will you do when this is all over?"

"Don't got the time to think 'bout that right now. All I want to do is to make it past the next battle alive, then the next one and the next."

"Good plan. Then what?"

"Depends on who wins. If'n the victors wear a decidedly agreeable shade of brown, well, maybe go back to the homestead and practice some ranch'n. If not…."

"Listen, my brother-in-law crewed a small transport boat before the war. Paid less then cleaning latrines in a reaver bar, but says he saw a lot. Kept him free. Said he wouldn't trade it for a dozen moons. You remind me of him."

Their cozy moment was broken when Amelia came bursting out of the door. "Are you going to be my new daddy?" 

"Kid don't wait a moment!" Mal said, placing the little girl up in his lap. He thought of what Zoe might think of that little scene. Of what his men would think. Surprise would be just the beginning.

"Isn't this a cozified version of domesticity." He commented aloud.

Mal then pointed up in the sky and leaned towards the little girl's ear. "See that little star up there? Just to the right of those three in a row?"

Amelia nodded, clutching tightly to her favorite doll.

"They say that's where Earth-that-was was."

Amelia giggled at the sound of those words. "Was was, was was."

He turned back towards Kate. "Hardly seems fair. All them folks chained to one small planet with but one smaller moon. How'd they manage?"

"Don't think they did." Kate answered. "Don't think they ever did."

Amelia's little voice challenged the crickets as she sang softly to herself "was was was was…"

"That's right child."

"Kate, you best get out while you can…"

"I was born here Mal. I'll stay here. This is my town."

"Ain't the first time I heard that." He pointed out towards the horizon, and grasped Amelia a little more tightly. "Them valley's around here? They're like giant funnels….spokes in a wheel. Thems that got a uniform and a gun is going to be focused down to this spot."

"I know it's for our own good."

Mal told his host how the Alliance had been looking for a final showdown, hoping to break the Indies. "We're mightier than them. But it ain't going to be pretty" he concluded.

"One thing's that's pretty. You! Mister, Sergeant. So damned pretty."

Hundreds of miles above them, hell opened up.

----------------

"GLORY ROAD! Good Lord! We ain't head'n to Glory Road are we?" For all of his bravado, the others couldn't help but be disturbed when of all people, Jayne was scared.

The crew was seated around the dining room table, all except for Mal who was nowhere to be found. Kaylee was the only one not looking serious.

"Glory Road? What's that?" she asked.

Wash jumped in, hardly the lighthearted soul he usually was. "It's been off limits…site of one of the worse 'dark' battles."

"I unnerstand it was hotter there then in Inara's on half-price Fridays." Jayne added.

Giving him a nasty stare, Wash continued, glad to finally be able to tell his own war story for once. He explained to Kaylee about "Lagrange Points," areas in planetary systems where the gravity equals out trapping any debris in a little protective pocket. "It was the perfect spot for an ambush."

There were a lot of small asteroids, great for hiding and typically used by pirates before the Alliance cracked down on them. And it was on a direct path towards Hera.

Simon then took over, staring down towards the table as he rubbed his hands together. "The Independents hid out there, lying in wait for an expected Alliance fleet. But someone tipped them off. So the Alliance sent in unmanned dummy spacecraft. Nuked the place with neutron bombs."

"Frying everyone inside their ships." Zoe continued. "…but keeping the ships intact. Minimized the debris the fleet would have to wade through. Hundreds of boats still there, locked in gravity."

Wash then explained how it was now considered a space graveyard. And that out of respect, the Alliance just left it alone. "Even they have a molecule, no that's too much, an atom, no a boson, of conscience every now and then."

"Course you need an electron microscope to see it." Zoe said.

Book had been watching things in the background with great interest, and finally had to say his piece betraying a knowledge that no mere "shepherd" should have. "There was a big rift within the Alliance military. Nearly split the upper leadership in two," he related with great solemnity. "The orders never got approval from Core Command. Nukes were off limits, but a charismatic officer with his own agenda and some loyalists worked around that. Thought he could end the war all by himself and be a big damned hero." Book leaned back and took a deep slow breath.

Briefly all eyes paused upon him. The others couldn't help but wonder just a little, as Book seemed to be lost in thought.

Wash broke the silence and explained that their path would take them right through the center of the debris field. Clearly against regulations, and going around would take a considerable amount of extra time. "Are you sure Mal wants this?"

"Don't change a thing dear. And by the way, it ain't for the captain."

Jayne put down an apple he had just finished. "What about reavers? Pick'n up spare parts and get'n some human jerky."

"Nothin' to worry. Something's even too ugly for reavers." Zoe ended.

----------------

As far as it was possible for the unaided eye to see, space seemed frozen. Dozens of small and large boats lay scattered across the scene, darkened, all life having blinked out in just a sliver of a moment of time years ago. Firefly class ships mixed with little Junebug shuttles and even an Orion here and there. Rocks and asteroids added to the clutter, all slowly rotating to their own time. If one were to look hard enough, they might catch sight of a slow stately collision between two chunks of rock. Maybe even a ship being gently tapped by the peak of a spinning asteroid, sending it into a dance that would not be broken for a hundred years.

In the distance a glimmer of one little ship could be seen darting in and out among the debris. Unlike the others, its windows glowed with the quiet warm blush of life. Malcolm Reynolds gazed out over the scene, silent and subdued, from the shuttle opposite that of Inara's. Its barren, cold and functional interior was more to his liking than the companion's luxuriant and stately setting.

Serenity came to a slow stop in the middle of the field. A few moments later a slit of light inched up the side of the cargo area as a hatch opened. And there Zoe stood, silhouetted against the light in her spacesuit, the quietly horrific images reflecting off of her helmet. She briefly gazed at the sights then gently released from her hands the bouquet of flowers Kaylee had so treasured from her shopping spree just a few days earlier.

----------------

There was an excited knock on the door, blending in with all of the other assorted noise and chatter of a town coming to life. Opening it up, Kate was standing face to face with Zoe, who was all businesslike this morning. "Mal here?" she asked, sharing no time for any pleasantries.

Mal stepped out of the kitchen, drying a plate, charming his second-in-command by looking surprisingly domesticated for someone who had supposedly sworn off the trappings of normal life. "Zoe? Things moving?"

"Guess it's time to git us some new war stories. Not good. Reports that there are so many Alliance ships you could waltz across them from here to Londinium."

"Thought I saw something in the sky last night. Any idea what it was? Looked nasty."

"Don't know sir. Some Alliance action probably, maybe their incoming fleet. Sir…we need to head on out. Statler says about 20 minutes. Head'n towards a place called 'Serenity.'"

From behind Mal, Kate listened in. "I know it well. A valley towards the west. Pretty place in the spring. There are some caves and outcrops near the entrance that might make a good place to hole up."

"Serenity Valley?" Mal repeated. "Good name for a battle. Memorable."

----------------

Serenity glided into orbit around Hera as her commander watched on, still from his vantage point in the shuttle. He would go there whenever he didn't want to be disturbed. Sometimes to plan things, others to just get away. And still other times when the past swept up beside and threatened to consume him.

----------------

The shuttle came to an uneventful landing at the town of Serenity View. It was a small but modern looking little hamlet of sorts. Built specifically to handle the tourist traffic lured in by the slowly evolving romanticization of the war. Each year more and more of both the curious and thoughtful came to learn about those events. The hallmark of Serenity View was the visitors center. Only three years old, it was one of the most popular single attractions in that part of the 'Verse. And even Mal had to admit to himself it was beautiful and dignified. Not at all like the gaudy showplaces the Alliance was so keen on building to their own honor.

The two former combatants strode into the center, looking at the quiet and graceful appearance. Both had been contacted by the center when it was still in the planning stages to add to an oral history project. Mal didn't want to have to relive something he thought about every day for the amusement of others. Yet now he was thinking about changing his mind after seeing the finality of the center's vision.

Crossed Alliance and Independent banners framed the entryway. Below them a docent was just starting a tour for a school group. Although the words she spoke were written by another and repeated a dozen times each day, she said them with a conviction that never betrayed any sense of boredom with the topic. "With over a half million men and women lost, the Battle of Serenity was a turning point for both sides…"

"Sir, we don't have to do this," Zoe whispered.

"I do."

"…Most graves are unknown. Many who lost someone here will adopt an unnamed grave as their own, and hope that someone else might be doing the same for their son and daughter…"

"Excuse me sir." said a young woman softly approaching the two. She was another volunteer docent. "I couldn't help but notice your clothing, jacket…."

"What, this old thing?"

She saw a familiarity to his face, a haunted distance that was unmistakable.

"You fought here, didn't you?"

Zoe stepped in front of her captain, protecting him once again. "Look miss…"

"It's okay. Yes, I fought here." He glanced back at Zoe. "We fought here….but obviously not too well!!" Even at times like this, Mal could rarely pass up a one-liner.

The docent softened her voice. "We get a lot of 'historical recreationists' here. Thinking the battle was glamorous. Not much glamour in a lot of people dying. We don't get many real veterans. Guess it's too soon." Then she brought out a pair of small ribbons with the Indie's flag on it. "Would you mind?"

"Ain't nothing wrong with showing the colors I suppose."

The young woman pinned one on Mal's jacket and another on Zoe's. It was a way for the center to honor those that survived. More Alliance flags were handed out as a rule, probably because they won. There would naturally be a greater interest in a battle by the victors.

She held out her hand and shook both Mal's and Zoe's, and directed them to the galleries as if they were honored guests.

And they were.

The exhibit contained photos, artifacts and historical placards explaining in brief the history of the war and what eventually led up to the battle. Mal didn't need to see it, as he had lived it. But the hallmark of the center was the "Gallery of the Fallen." It was a maze of black polished stone walls, the winning idea of a young architectural student. The names of the fallen were engraved for all to see, grouped by their particular outfit. Many came as mere spectators, but some as participants looking for the names of the familiar. When found, they might take a capture of the stone, or make a simple rubbing of the name of a loving son or lost wife.

In a near trancelike state Mal started searching in silence, scanning the stones one at a time. He couldn't help but notice that no side received a favored position. Finally he came across one stone with "57th Overlanders" stretched across the top. He paused and slowly ran his finger through the lettering almost as if to make a physical connection with his friends who silently remained on the battlefield to this day. Mal looked down and couldn't help but notice that a little girl had come up to him.

"And what do we have here little one?" The warrior knelt down and took her hands, assuming she might have wandered off from one of the school groups.

A shy little thing and having been told to be quiet in the hall by her teacher, she simply pointed to Mal's ribbon. Then much to his surprise, quickly put her arms around him then darted off.

Mal looked up at Zoe his eyes on the verge of misting up he said, "You know, I might get to like children."

----------------

"Sir, I found something! Looks like we have some survivors." The soldier was standing at the peak of a small rocky outcrop looking down towards the low entrance of a cave. Smoke and carnage was all too abundant.

"You sure? In this piss-pot?"

"A couple, looks like." He aimed his weapon at the two, knowing how ridiculous that must have looked, given the situation.

His commander joined him, looking fatigued from seeing too much of the war, too close up that day. "Didn't come here to take prisoners."

Zoe and Mal stirred from behind the rocks. At least it was over they could only think, having emerged from one of the longest nights of their lives.

"I bet they have a story to tell their kids." The commander said roughly. "Well, wash 'em up, check 'em out and let's see what we have."

----------------

Malcolm Reynolds stood, stripped to his waist, his shirt and duster now in a pile on the ground. The only person resembling a doctor in that area quickly checked his wounds to see if he was worth patching up.

"You're okay, put your stuff back on."

"Oh, but doctor, I got this pain in my back…."

"Man can still joke after seeing a hundred thousand die." The doctor thought. "What kind of person would do that?"

The soldier pointed to Zoe, "Your turn sweetheart."

She slowly rose, every bone aching.

"Do like your friend here. Gotta check for 'injuries'" He said, waving the doctor off.

"I ain't hurt."

"You let me decide that."

Another soldier put some plastic ties around Mal's wrists now that he was dressed.

"You heard the lady, she ain't hurt!"

The solder sent a disdainful glance over toward Mal. "You're not exactly in the position to give me orders. What are you anyway?" He stepped on over to the survivor and ran a thumb across Mal's lapels and shoulders as if he was looking for something. "What exactly are ya? Private? Corporal? Can't tell cuz you guys never seem to wear uniforms, great for hiding among the civilians. Eh?" He turned back to Zoe. "Now honey, off with the shirt."

----------------

"Over here sir!"

Mal rushed to Zoe's side, still wearing his ribbon from the visitor's center. "Yup, looks like it."

The two stood at the peak of a small rocky outcrop bathed in the golden warmth of the late afternoon sun. Ahead of them stood the low opening of a shallow little cave. From among the cracks of the rocks were an explosion of colorful wildflowers. "Kate was right" Mal thought. "This is beautiful in the spring."

**Chapter 4**

The shepherd moved through the corridor again heading towards the Captain's quarters. His hair neatly tied behind his head to forego River's ever curious looks. He stopped and softly knocked on the door. "Mal, Are you okay?" There was no answer. He pushed his luck, "May I come in?" Cracking open the door ever so slightly he peeked in and saw Mal sitting in a dim pool of light at his desk. Over on his bed was his tattered brown duster, carefully laid out as if it was a suit of armor resting up for future battles yet to come.

"Book…" came a tired and drained acknowledgement.

Without waiting for an invitation he stepped down in as before, closed the hatch, and sat down. It is never for a shepherd to stay away based on a person's wants, only on needs. And the good ones knew exactly when they were needed. "You find what you were looking for son?"

"A little bit. Maybe." He paused. "Look Shep…"

Book leaned a little forward, his face just started to peek into the light. "Would you care to tell me what it was?"

Mal was caught off guard by Book's directness. He could normally be quite blunt, but this was unusual. But Mal had one answer, and one answer only.

"Serenity."

"It's about time."

Having received what he hoped to get, the shepherd eased himself up to leave. "Oh, and it is almost dinnertime. Kaylee's cooking tonight. I am not sure what it is, but it looked, uh, 'interesting.' No doubt some 'cute country girl stuff." He turned to open the door, while Mal turned back towards his desk and papers.

"Oh, and Book?" he said over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Book smiled from the shadows so he couldn't be seen. Mal was the type of person that rarely showed true gratitude. Not that he couldn't, it was just that he didn't believe in cheap merit. A person had to completely earn his respect. And that made his "thanks" all the more extraordinary.

"And what did I do to earn this unique gift? You never seem to need any of my matchless and qualified services."

"Bye Book.." Mal wasn't going to give up this easily.

"Oh, and uh Book, one more thing."

He stopped, and didn't even turn around. "Yes?" 

"You can start saying grace out-loud at dinner now if you like."

Book tipped his head in a brief acknowledgement as he ascended the ladder.

Malcolm Reynolds turned back to some odds and ends scattered across his tidy little desk, and leaned into his own pool of light that was cascading off the walls and dancing across the floor. In the silence he could just make out the low bustle of several conversations intermingled with laughter all at once coming to a focus in the dining commons up above.

He turned over a small piece of paper and examined it in the light. It was a photo of a young Asian woman and her little girl.

----------------

The military transport mule might have looked nicer for being an Alliance vehicle and all, but its ride was as rough as they usually were. Zoe and Mal, shackled in the back, hardly said a thing since their capture early that morning. Now in the broad daylight the devastation of the valley was cast before them. A mantle of smoke hung low over the landscape, as if it was trying to save others the sight of the events it had witnessed the night before. The sun cast a filtered blood-red light across the countryside as the day neared an end. Zoe made note that this was the end of the first day of the era which would now know of something called "_The Battle of Serenity_."

After what seemed like an hour, the mule made a cautious exit out of the valley. Both passengers glanced up for one final look, hoping, knowing, that they would never return no matter what.

The mountains became hills, and the hills became plains, and before long Mal could start making out familiar sights. At last, the transport slowed to a stop as the driver spoke to some guards at a checkpoint. Mal leaned around to see what was going on and noticed that they had just arrived at the outskirts of a small town. Or rather, what had been a small town. Not a single building was left on its foundation having either been burned or pulverized.

Then he saw it. On the top of a small rise to the left were five simple steps leading up to… nothing.

----------------

Mal gazed at the photo and flipped it over to read a message lovingly inscribed on the back. Still crisp after all these years. A voice from the past spoke out to him. "To Darling Mal. Keep flying. Stay pretty. And come back when this is all over. Love Kate and Amelia."

----------------

"…Statler says about 20 minutes. Head'n towards a place called 'Serenity'."

"I know it well. A valley towards the west. Pretty place in the spring. There are some caves and outcrops near the entrance, might make a good place to hole up."

"Serenity Valley?" Mal repeated. "Good name for a battle. Memorable."

He turned and looked at Kate with an intensity of someone who knew that the next day could very well be his final day. "Kate…"

"I know, ya gotta go. That duty thing of yours…"

"Sir we don't have much time."

Kate poked at Mal as Zoe concealed her mouth trying to hide a momentary grin. "Got get em! Shoosh! You have some bad guys to rid the world of!"

The soldier turned and began to follow Zoe down towards the street.

"Oh, pretty boy, I almost forgot!" Kate shouted from behind. "Amelia has something to give to you!"

The bashful little girl clutched something in her tiny hands as she leaned against her mother's legs. Kate bent down and whispered into her daughter's ear. "Go ahead dear. You know he doesn't bite. Much." Amelia darted towards the soldier who opened his arms once again to her. He secretly wished that scene could play itself out every day. That way he could see this little girl grow and become a beautiful and honorable woman. But for now, she was still a little child and one who dropped into his outstretched hands a small crucifix on a chain.

"I ain't been much of a cross wear'n man. Until now that is."

Mal paused and gave it a kiss while this lovely Asian woman he had met only a few days before put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt, while herself secretly placing a photo in his pocket.

"The way you said grace over dinner, well, Amelia thought you might want this. As do I." She patted him on the chest to make sure the cross was in its place. "We're always fight'n for something. The lucky ones have to fight for 'someone.' Remember us."

----------------

In "The Black," space and solitude conspire together to affect people in ways much different than anything else. The emptiness can carve up a hole in man bigger then any valley or haunt him as a thousand ghosts.

The little transport ship wheeled its way through that solitude leaving the "dust of a thousand worlds far behind." Were one to navigate her corridors she might think that it was a genial and warm place to be. Wandering first towards the cargo hold, she might catch a glimpse of Simon and Kaylee resuming their dance lessons. But things are a little different. Simon is no longer the only one oddly dressed up in an otherwise grimy and industrial setting. For Kaylee is wearing her orange "layer cake" dress with matching purse. Simon had tried to explain that she didn't need to carry a purse while waltzing, but she would have nothing of it.

If the visitor would continue her tour, she might catch Book, reading, as shepherds frequently do, the Bible. That "broken book" as it had been called by another on the ship. This time it's a little different. Seated next to him, leaning on one fist is Jayne who points to different passages and asks the shepherd about them.

Zoe is seated in Wash's lap. An orange stegosaurus is in her right hand engaged in a battle to the death with one of her husband's sock puppets. We can't hear their words, but their laughter is enough.

Inara's teapot is nearly at a boil. She kneels down and places small delicate cup down on the table for her guest, as this is a new blend she is excited about trying: Shanghai Dreams. Mal never considered himself a "tea kinda guy." But he could make an exception.

The boat gently shuddered as a trimming engine hissed, ever so slightly nudging her towards a truer course.

Mal's cabin was silent and still and for the first time in many years, at peace. On the table could be observed a small photo. A handsome young Asian woman peeked out from its creased surface. Beside her was a cute little girl. Carefully placed next to the photo was a small dirt encrusted silver crucifix still gleaming in the dim light.

River leaned against his door, content, taking it all in. Silent. Still. Knowing.

----------------

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With apologies to Michelle Dockery for using an excerpt from her beautiful "Mal's Song".

The quote from Niska regarding Inara in the teaser was excerpted from Virtual Firefly, episode 1x17, "Hero Complex".


End file.
